At night, when sleep takes over and the mind goes numb,
the Sandman makes his rounds and leaves again,
when moon and stars rule skies, when one small crumb
keeps tickling you on your well-wrinkled skin, it's then
the time has come when thoughts drift through the drapes
and hover just above your restless feather pillow.
Their colours are elusive, fuzzy are their shapes,
yet they originate from your own private willow,
the home to all of your creative imagery.
These thoughts connect with you when Gods of twilight rule,
but fleeting as they are, you must, before they flee
accept them gratefully. And, do not be a fool!
Quick, write them down now on a waiting pad,
and in the morning they will greet you with a smile.
Others may think that after all you have gone mad.
Only YOU will be content and, in a while,
after brekkie maybe, write the day's first poem.
And do remember that all thoughts live in that tree,
if they ask, you simply say 'that's where I grow 'em',
I always welcome twilight thoughts, they are for me.

Herbert Nehrlich

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/twilight-dreams-2/